Kates2Cents.com

So I love Sweet Tomatoes Restaurant, and going with my family.  It’s a soup and salad buffet place with lots of extras.  I get salad, my son gets pizza (disguised at ‘focaccia bread’), and if my baby cries, it’s not too bad, because the dining area is informal and loud anyways.  My only problem, my husband.  From the moment we get in there, he turns into this crazed animal searching for food.  His favorite thing; meat, namely chicken.  The only place to find it is in the chunky chicken noodle soup.  There are huge pieces of chicken breast, and he spends lots of time at the buffet scooping out all the chicken, leaving broth and noodles for everyone else.  I don’t feel too bad, because I’ve seen other men do this; it’s the only way the wives can get them to agree to go.  Ok, so he scoops out the chicken who cares, right?  Well the last few times we’ve gone the chicken noodle soup has been empty when we get there.  Forget talking to him, he’s on a mission.  He spends the next 20 minutes popping up out of his seat and checking the bin for more soup.  His eyes dart around and his breathing rate increases.  His muscles get all tense.  I really think he thinks that they will put out the soup and 100’s of men will charge the soup station looking for meat.  Finally, he told an employee that the soup was empty (what a novel thought) and they put out more.  Ah, sweet victory.  He sits down, calm.  “This is fun,” he says.  “I like this place.”  I roll my eyes.